


The Fire in Us

by saphira_black



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bastille - Freeform, Bickering, Domestic Boyfriends, Drarry, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hugs, M/M, Pining, Pining Draco Malfoy, Pining Harry Potter, Sort of? - Freeform, Supportive Ginny Weasley, auror!Harry, h/d - Freeform, healer!Draco, my goal for this was a hug, well they are pining in a Drarry way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 14:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18412427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saphira_black/pseuds/saphira_black
Summary: “I volunteer,” Draco exclaimed louder than he wanted to.“I choose Malfoy.”“You sure, Potter?”"Yes, Robards. They blew away the car, not my brain,”...





	The Fire in Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [donnarafiki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnarafiki/gifts).



> Big thanks to **goldfwish** for the quick beta and the amazing title suggestions!! ♥  
>  **Ale** , you're a wonderful cheerleader! Thanks to you I didn't lose hope! ♥  
>  **Donna** , please find my love at the end ♥
> 
> This was inspired by my need for a hug and two Bastille songs (Campus & Icarus) I was listening to at that time.

_Just another man in the field_  
_Just another tall pile of papers_  
_Making it crowded in here_  
_Someone else's workin' your thesis_  
_Someone else's words in your mouth_  
_Someone else's hard work and research  
_ _Taking you up in the world_

 

Frustrated, he fell back on his chair. Another day had passed where he had been unable to do something. His gaze wandered to his paperwork. More than once this week, he’d had to ask himself why they had let him become a Healer in the first place if all they ever did was keep him busy with administration?

               It was infuriating to see other people using _his_ analysis. The ambitious part of him wanted the validation of his hard work, needed it. All those sleepless nights and devastating depressive periods for nothing. He had spent more time in the laboratory than in his own bed.

Instead, he was stuck in the exile called his office. One week until his 26th birthday and what had he achieved so far? At the age of 22 he graduated as the best from his apprenticeship in St Mungo’s. After that, he started to work in the ministry. Everyone else in his position had an Auror team assigned. Everyone. Even Cássio Silva had one.   

               He glared at the parchment in front of him. He was about to reach for his quill when the alarm in the Healer department started to howl. Immediately he jumped up and started to sprint to the meeting room. If he was fast enough, maybe this time… Maybe he could snatch a position for a field trip.

He knew he should feel sorry. The howling only started if a Healer was injured in combat, or if an accident happened and they needed more. Over the years he had tried his best to become a better man.

 

 _Oh, never leave me out_  
_I'm standing by the sidelines_  
_Oh, never leave me out_  
_I'm standing by_

 

However, he was sick of only watching. He couldn’t fight the urge to do _something_ anymore. He was the second to arrive. He heart missed a beat at the sight of the Auror team leader.

               Harry Potter. His ridiculous messy black hair was smoking a bit. His lower lip was bleeding. Hannah had already taken care of him. Hannah Abbott was one of the very few colleagues of Draco's that treated him with respect. Over the last few weeks, he had to admit, he was starting to like her. She had a good soul. Of course, he would never admit this to anyone.

Back to Potter. His partner was nowhere to be seen. What happened? Usually the ministry tried to keep Potter out of any dangerous missions. Most of the time they used him as a figure for the public. He was the shining hero of the Auror department.

               “Did I miss something?” Silva’s deep voice ripped him out of his thoughts. The Portuguese Healer, with a curious look on his face, observed Potter.

Draco just shrugged in response, not willing to waste his breath for the useless young man next to him. He put his focus back on Potter.

               Robards barked a summary of the events. Potter needed a new Healer that would go undercover with him and his partner, who was currently at St Mungo’s, looking after their team’s assigned Healer.

Draco, Silva, and two other Healers quickly raised their hands. “I volunteer,” Draco exclaimed louder than he wanted to. His heart was racing. Not only was this his chance to prove that he could be trusted and was a skillful Healer, no… His gaze flickered to Potter, who looked him straight in the eyes.

               “I choose Malfoy.”

A shiver ran down Draco’s spine. He dropped his hand. One second he felt the warm wave of relief wash over him, and in the other the blood in his veins turned ice cold. Suddenly he was aware of what he volunteered for.

               “You sure, Potter?”

Hearing the sceptical tone of Robards’ question forced Draco to regret his decision. For a second he had forgotten who he used to be and who Potter was. He made a mistake. With his ambition he'd dug his own grave – again.

 

 _Look who's digging their own grave_  
_That is what they all say  
_ _You'll drink yourself to death_

 

               “Yes, Robards. They blew away the car, not my brain,” deadpanned Harry. “Malfoy, tomorrow at eight in my office?”

“Sure, Potter.” He nodded, threw a quick glare at Robards, turned on his heels and walked out of the meeting room with his robes billowing around his legs.

               When he got back to his office, he tried to hide his shivering hands in the folds of his emerald green robes. He would go undercover with bloody Harry Potter. He was in charge of his life now. This was a terrible idea.

If the reckless imbecile got hurt, everyone would blame him. He crossed the distance to his desk and sat down with a groan. He would finish his paperwork, even if it meant staying longer – again. After that, he could take time to study some more spells. He would keep Saint Potter safe, no matter what.

Deep down, Draco was already aware that even after years he still was incapable of ending his obsession with Potter. During his training he had nearly forgotten the Saviour. He'd avoided the Daily Prophet and kept his nose in his books.

However, it all changed after he was transferred to the ministry. At first, Draco thought that he could stay at St Mungo’s. He had liked it there, felt valued. Of course, the ministry wouldn’t let him have his peace. They wanted to keep an eye on him, so they put him into the Healer department, only to put him on ice.

               At first the encounters with Potter were like during their time at Hogwarts – constant bickering and exchange of unholy insults. Months had followed weeks, and their dynamic had slowly changed. Suddenly their insults lost their malice, and instead a sort of _friendly_ tone was laying underneath. They started to greet each other every time they passed in the corridors. They still haven’t overcome the last name stage, but somehow they were more comfortable around each other.

This led Draco to his current emotional misery. He fancied Potter. Out of all people in the ministry, he developed a crush on Harry bloody Potter, the main character of at least half of his nightmares. If his archenemy would stay only in his nightmares, Draco would be relieved. Unfortunately, the reckless Gryffindor had a tendency to show up in other dreams more frequently. Draco fought back the uprising guilt and shame.

He shook his head, banishing all filthy thoughts from his mind. He had to concentrate on the paper in front of him. “You’re goddamn Draco Malfoy,” he muttered, “control yourself!”

 

🙚 ★ 🙘

 

               “Malfoy?!”

Harry rolled his eyes and looked up. His partner closed the door with a loud bang. “I don’t know what you mean, Ernie.”

               “I’m not even mad that it’s _Malfoy_. He's clearly changed, but he is the _least_ experienced Healer we have!” Ernie ran his fingers through his hair and took a seat on the couch of the shared office. “If that’s your damn saviour complex coming through I will shred you to pieces. You better have a better reason than that.”

Ernest Macmillan – always ready to jump to conclusions without thinking much about it. Although he frequently got on Harry’s nerves, he liked working with him. As fast as Ernie was accusing him of something, he was just as quickly ready to admit if he was wrong. “Have you forgotten that he was the best in his year at St Mungo’s?”

               “Harry, did the explosion fry your brain? That was three or four years ago!” Ernie banged his head on his desk. “‘Potter is a good partner,’ they said. ‘Potter already saved the world,’ they said. What could possibly go wrong?” He groaned.

Harry chuckled, putting his pen down. He refused to use quills for his paperwork so he had smuggled a nice ballpoint pen into his office. In the past, the ministry had tried to force him to give up on this useful Muggle device. After a heated discussion with a couple of people, the ministry now closed both eyes when they saw him using it, although he wasn’t allowed to use it outside of his office. They didn’t want others to _get an idea_.

“Should I have chosen Cássio?” Harry raised a brow and leant back in his chair, his eyes pinned on Ernie.

               “Cássio was an option?” the blond Auror asked in disbelief. “Now that I think about it… Malfoy isn’t that bad. He was always head to head with Hermione in school as well…” He sat up again. “By the way… Rionach is okay. The Mediwizward in charge said she should be alright in a few days. She just needs a bit of rest.”

Harry exhaled, relieved. “That’s good news. Maybe next time we should come to her and not the other way ‘round,” he suggested. “We should have been more cautious.”

               “Don’t blame yourself for this, Harry. It was me that got injured. She came by herself. You know her. She’s a warrior!”

“Yeah… but have you trailed them?” Harry shuffled through his documents until he found the picture he was looking for. He stood up and went to Ernie’s desk. “It was Boot.”

               “I don’t get it. Why would he do something like that? He once fought for the right side.” Ernie reached for the picture. It was a snapshot of Terry Boot. Two weeks they observed him. One more day and they would have put ‘innocent’ after his name.

“Everyone has a dark side. We may not know what channelled his, but we have to prevent him from hurting more people along the way.” Harry’s gaze wandered to the clock over the door. “Time to go home, Ernie.” He knocked against the wooden desk and went back to his own table. “Don’t let your fiancée wait.”

               Ernie’s ears turned bright red. Only last week he had asked his girlfriend to marry him. They met during one of the field operations him and Harry were on. She was a Muggle, and it was hard at first. The Macmillan family were proud to call themselves one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. After months of emotional torture his family finally accepted her. “See you tomorrow,” he muttered, quickly packing his stuff.

 

 _Look out to the future_  
_But it tells you nothing  
_ _So take another breath_

 

An hour later Harry regretted that he stayed back without Ernie. He massaged his temples, hoping that it would soothe his pain. With a groan he stood up. It was useless to continue. He wasn’t capable of logical thinking anymore. He grabbed his leather jacket and checked if all classified documents were locked up.

              His steps echoed through the corridor. Deep in thought about what he should cook for dinner, not paying attention to his surroundings, he crashed into someone as he turned around the corner.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He crouched down to help the person in front of him, without looking up. His eyebrows knitted together at the sight of the familiar handwriting.

              “Careless and unobservant as always. Who did you bribe to become an Auror, Potter?”

A shiver ran down Harry’s spine. The corner of his lips twitched as he looked up. “Your compliments make my heart flutter, Malfoy.” He raised up and offered the blond Healer his documents. “If you need to insult the same person twice, you’ve already failed to devastate them, Malfoy. Step up your game a bit.”

              “If you don’t mind, I would appreciate it if you would just vanish. Looking at you makes me believe that I will start to suffer from severe brain damage.” Malfoy wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“You’re as lovely as a prodded _Mimbulus mimbletoni_ ,” Harry chuckled in response. “See you tomorrow, Malfoy.”

              “Until tomorrow, Potter.” Malfoy stalked away, with his emerald robes waving around his ankles and his head up.

Harry allowed himself to look after the blond git he used to hate in his teenage days. With a sigh, he called the elevator. “He looked tired,” he mumbled to himself. He looked over his shoulder one last time, but Malfoy was already gone, before he stepped into the elevator.

              With a groan Harry unlocked the door to Grimmauld Place, still thinking about Malfoy. He kicked his shoes into the corner next to the door. His focus for work was completely gone. Instead his thoughts were with the bloody Slytherin.

In the hope that cooking would help to clear his mind, he decided to make lasagne. Practised, he grabbed the ingredients and prepared every step. Thanks to Molly he discovered his love for cooking in the last few months.

              “Harry, are you home?”

Harry looked up. He had just closed his oven. “In the kitchen!” He stood up and went to the sink to wash his hands. Suddenly someone hugged him from behind. He turned around laughing and wrapped his arms around Ginny. “Hey, how are you?”

              A wide smile appeared on her face. “I’m the Captain, Harry! I just came back from training!” She stepped back and inspected Harry from head to toe.

Fondly, he returned the look. “Congrats, Ginny! That sounds amazing and you definitely deserved it! It was about time, according to Ron. Did you already tell him?”

              “You’re the first.” She winked at him. “Did something good happen today?” she asked, while she hopped onto the kitchen counter.

Harry raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Your clothes look like you had a rough day at work, but the look in your eyes…” She squinted her eyes. “You know you can’t lie to me, Potter!”

Harry rolled his eyes and continued to clean up the mess in the kitchen. “I don’t know what you mean.” He side-eyed her. Seeing her so happy always warmed up his heart. Besides Ron and Hermione, she was his best friend.

              “Do you want to know what Charlie and me call that look on your face?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her long hair was tied up to a high ponytail. Now, the grown woman she was, her beauty was even more mesmerizing than in her teenage days. However, she was not really Harry’s type. A few weeks after the war they both had realized that they didn’t feel romantic towards each other. Instead they remained close friends.

“Please, share your wisdom with me.” He got a bit annoyed with the cleaning, so instead he reached for his wand and cast a quick charm.

              “It’s the ‘ _I-wanna-snog-Malfoy’_.” She jumped from the counter and distanced herself from Harry. Her laughter filled the room.

Harry’s ears started to burn. “I certainly do _not_ want to snog Malfoy! What gave you that ridiculous idea?”

              “Harry, please. I am not Ronald you’re talking to.” Ginny raised her brow. “So, will you tell me what happened or do I have to guess?”

Harry groaned. “Living room. Go.” He checked if the timer of his oven was on and followed the redheaded devil. “It’s nothing, okay? He will replace Rionach during the case I am currently working on.” He sat down on his couch, facing Ginny. “He volunteered.”

              “It’s been a year since the last time I saw him. How is he doing? Is he finally allowed to join a team?” Ginny reached for one of the pillows and hugged it. The look on her face was concerned.

“No,” Harry growled. “Robards wanted to talk me out of it and Ernie thought that my Saviour complex was breaking out again.” He leaned back and ran his fingers through his hair. “I tried to persuade the Healer department to assign him to me and Ernie, but in the end we got Rionach. Don’t get me wrong. She’s amazing at her job and _everyone_ would want her.”

              “Sounds like Ernie is right, Mr Saviour,” Ginny teased.

“Oh come on! You know that it’s not like that,” Harry groaned.

              “Yeah, I know. I will repeat myself: Maybe it’s for the best if you and Malfoy aren’t working together. You have the tendency to drive everyone around you insane. No offence Harry, but it would be a better idea to just shag him.” She shrugged and let her eyes wander through the room.

“Would you please stop,” Harry whined. “I don’t wanna shag Malfoy! And why – out of all people – do _you_ want me to go and shag him? You _hated_ him in school.”

              “I can’t deny that, but I’ve grown, Harry. He changed.” Ginny shrugged and played with a loose thread of the pillowcase. “We all changed,” she added in a low voice, her brows knitted together.

Harry hated to see her like that, so he did the first thing that came to mind. He grabbed one of the pillows and aimed for Ginny’s head. He shut his eyes, expecting her to hit him back with full force. After several seconds he slowly opened his eyes.

A flummoxed looking Ginny just raised a brow, before she burst out laughing. She squeezed the pillow in her hand, tears collecting in the corners of her eyes. “Haa-rry,” she started with a hiccup. “Y-your fa-ace!”

Harry’s lips curled into a soft smile. There she was again. “For such a good Quidditch player you have surprisingly bad reflexes,” he teased her.

              Instead of a witty line, she leaned towards him, wrapping her arms around his arms, still laughing – making Harry’s ears tingle a bit. “Love ya!”

He embraced her, took a deep breath of her scent. Family. “You stink.” He gripped her ponytail and yanked at it, forcing her to back away from him. He wrinkled his nose, knowing that the look on his face could compete with Malfoy’s. “You filthy little thing could have at least _showered_ before you invaded my home!”

              She just snorted and shrugged. “I’ll do that at home. I thought in this hellhole I wouldn’t stand out much.” She flicked her tongue and stood up. “Better leave now, before Mum goes crazy. Let me know how your date with Malfoy goes!” She winked at him.

“It’s. Not. A. Date. We _work_ together!”

              “Sure, babe. If that’s what you believe!” She turned on her heels and crossed the living room. Before she left the room she looked over her shoulder, a concerned look on her face. “Take care, Harry. Tone your inner Saviour down, okay? I don’t want to think that you’re dead a third time.”

Harry let a frustrated sigh escape his lips. He loved his friends, but sometimes strangling them appeared more satisfying than he ever thought.

“ _I-wanna-snog-Malfoy,”_ he muttered, “I can’t believe that they can say that. As if.”

 

🙚 ★ 🙘

 

Draco hesitated for a moment before his fingers wrapped around the cool door handle. The realisation of his bad manners stopped him once more. He withdrew his hand to knock first.

              “Yes?”

A shiver ran down Draco’s spine. Goosebumps spread over his neck and his breath got stuck in his throat for a second. He pressed the door handle down and stepped into the office.

               “Oh Malfoy, you’re early. Couldn’t wait to see my charming smile?” Emerald green eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Verily, the nightmares of our encounter kept me awake.” Draco’s gaze wandered to the table next to Potter’s. Ernest Macmillan. “Good morning, Macmillan. Congratulations to your engagement.”

               Macmillan’s head shot to Potter just to send him a funny look. Ridiculous. How could he have believed that this would be a good idea? The former Hufflepuff looked back in his direction. Eyebrows knitted together, he mumbled a ‘Good morning’.

He would pull through. He knew it. He was Draco bloody Malfoy, aspiring Healer and perfectly capable to keep his composure. “Are you finished looking? I’d advise to take a photograph if you want to continue staring like that.” He crossed the distance to Potter’s desk and took a seat on the chair opposite of the Golden Boy. “Careful, you might drool on your case files.”

               Potter chuckled and rolled his eyes theatrically. “Your narcissism is in all honour, but let’s concentrate on the case, Malfoy.”

 

 _You put up your defenses when you leave_  
_You leave because you're certain_  
_Of who you want to be_  
_You're putting up your armor when you leave_  
_You leave because you're certain  
_ _Of who you want to be_

 

“Not my fault that you can’t handle the presence of a decent human,” Draco snarled.

               Macmillan snorted. “Maybe we should keep him. He’s funnier than I remembered.” He stood up and walked over to Potter, stopping behind him, one hand on his shoulder.

The corner of Draco’s mouth twitched. He clenched his teeth in order to keep all emotions out of his face. This was not the place to make friends. “I am all ears for the case.”

 

Half an hour later Draco was sure that both Potter and Macmillan were complete lunatics. In the case of Potter it was a confirmation, but Macmillan? “You want to perform this stunt… today? This night? In several hours?”

               Macmillan (who had offered him ‘Ernie’ during the first five minutes) and Potter shared a look before their gazes fixed back on him. “Yes,” they confirmed in unison.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, a heavy sigh leaving his chest. “This is… Let me put it in a way you understand: completely nuts. Are you out of your mind? This could _kill_ you, if anything goes wrong.”

               “That’s why we have you. I trust you, Malfoy,” Potter said with a confident smile, eyes lit up with trust that Draco hadn’t earned yet – he thought. “You’re a good Healer, if I can believe Hannah.”

“Of course I am. I was the best in my year.” Draco was proud of his fast answer. His voice hadn’t been shaking, didn’t show the slightest hint of the storm that raged inside of him. He had mastered the ability of keeping his walls up. He knew how he had to wrinkle his nose in disapproval, although he supported the idea. His emotions never touched the surface, if he didn’t allow them.

So how in Salazar’s name was Potter able to affect him like that?

_I choose Malfoy._

_I trust you, Malfoy._

He could hear his own blood rushing, mouth going dry and hands sweating. But the worst of all? His heart exploded in his chest. It was like a dam was broken. A flood of different emotions crashed over him, filled every inch of his body, drowning him in the sensation. His body tensed.

               “Don’t interpret too much into that, Malfoy. You’re still an impossible posh git,” Potter chuckled. Something that Draco wasn’t able to put a finger on flashed in the emerald irises.

It took him a second to push his emotions aside, to lock them away again. This was not the moment where he should think about his desire to call Potter _Harry_. “At least I have my position because I earned it, not because PR thought it would be a good idea.” He bit his tongue. Of course his answer had been harsher than intended.

               Potter started to laugh. Deep and full. Wrinkles appeared around his eyes and made him appear ten times more attractive and _within reach._ His shoulders were shaking, his head falling back. Macmillan, or Ernie, rolled with his eyes, lips curled into a smile.

That was the moment Draco realised it, fully understood how deep he was standing in hippogriff shit. He wasn’t nurturing a slight crush on Harry Potter. No. He _liked_ Potter. The kind of liking where you talk about the future, talk about kids and plan to buy a house. He wanted to fool around with Potter in _their_ home.

Draco had fallen in love with Harry Potter. And that was the moment where his anger won the upper hand. How could this reckless imbecile, with _zero_ taste in hairstyling, capture his heart? You would assume that hair care ran in his blood, considering the invention of Fleamont Potter, but no… Harry Potter always had to walk down his own path.

This hot headed moron had come back to life just to give the Dark Lord a big ‘Sod off!’ He was loud and could be rude at times. He was stubborn and reckless.

               But that was what Draco loved about him as well. Harry James Potter annoyed him to an extent that he prayed for his death on more than one occasion, but in the end… It was _Harry_. His passion burned as strong and bright as the Fiendfyre from where he already was saved once. And Draco wanted nothing more than to protect those flames. He wanted to connect with the unbroken spirit of the Boy Who Lived Twice. If he gave in this time, there would be no salvation.

 

 _Your hands protect the flames  
_ _From the wild winds around you_

_Icarus is flying too close to the sun_  
_Icarus’s life, it has only just begun_  
_This is how it feels to take a fall  
_ _Icarus is flying towards an early grave_

 

Draco crouched behind a bush. Ernie explained to him more than once that there was no obligation for him to be at the scene. Draco had insisted. First of all, this was his chance to finally fill his lungs with the addictive taste of freedom. Secondly, he would be damned if Potter or Ernie died under his watch.

The whole mission was destined to fail. Harry… No, _Potter_ had insisted that he follow a plan that included him using the full-force of his Saviour complex. He wanted to approach Boot like an old friend. He believed that there was still something good left in him.

Of course there was a backup plan. Ernie was disguised to step in if things got out of hand. And Draco… Well, Draco would try to stay out of the fight. After all, he was their Healer. Only in the worst case scenario he would step in and fight.

His legs were already numb from the waiting. He switched to a kneeling position, muffling a yawn with his hand. Suddenly a crack was audible. Harry’s voice cut through the silence of the night. Calm and friendly. Draco tightened his grip around his wand. Fear crept under his skin.

All of a sudden the situation escalated. A strangely familiar voice started to scream a curse.

               “ _Diffindo_!”

“ _EXPELLIARMUS_!” Harry!

               “Harry!” Another scream. “ _STUPEFY_!”

Draco jumped on his feet, running towards the scene. His heart dropped. Harry was laying on the floor. Bleeding. His brain switched to autopilot. Everything that happened after that merged into one big mess.

His training paid off. Boot hadn’t been alone – something that _Auror_ Potter wasn’t prepared for.

 

🙚 ★ 🙘

 

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed. “Molly, I am _fine_.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I wasn’t really in danger. Ernie already told you. Malfoy healed me before my condition could become critical.”

               “Come on, Mum,” Ginny jumped in to help Harry. She shot him a frown. He knew that she wasn’t done with him yet. “He’s fine. You heard him and the Head Healer. No reason to pester him more.”

With a sigh of relief, Harry sat back onto his bed. In his opinion it had been totally unnecessary that he spent the night at St. Mungo’s. He reached for the clothes that Ginny had brought him. Quickly he changed into his favourite pair of jeans and a burgundy shirt.

He had been released from the hospital half an hour ago, so he decided to head to the ministry first. As soon as he stepped out of his room someone lunged towards him. The air got pressed out of his lungs as a person jumped onto him.

The only reason he wasn’t landing on his arse was the constant attacks from Ginny. He was so used to her attacks that it was only natural to curl his arms around the waist of his attacker. Legs were wrapped around his waist and a face was buried against his neck.

He felt like a bolt had hit him. Malfoy. Draco Malfoy had attacked him like that. Was he dreaming? Did he fall into a coma? He didn’t move an inch, scared that this fantasy would burst like a soap bubble.

               “For a moment I thought I lost you… again.” It was nothing more than a faint whisper. Enough to increase the pace of Harry’s heartbeat.

A wide smile turned the corner of his lips upwards. His second arm joined the first one, pressing the warm body against his chest. “I heard that you had tears in your eyes. Never thought that you’d be the sensitive type.”

Suddenly the man in his arms let his feet drop back to the floor, withdrew his arms and pushed Harry away. The otherwise pale face was coated with a light pink. Nose wrinkled in disapproval. Stormy grey eyes, a hint of anxiety in it,  pierced Harry’s soul.

               “Problem, Potter? What’s that look on your face? I already regret saving you.” Malfoy spat.

But Harry knew… It wasn’t malice that spoke out of _Draco_. Yes, Draco. Draco was a better fit for the man in front of him. Charlie and Ginny had been right about him after all. “You know… There is a name for this look… Wanna know?” Harry couldn’t hide the cheeky spark in his eyes.

               “I’d rather not. Looks like you’re really proud of yourself at the moment.” Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Harry grinned in amusement. Draco was still wearing the clothes from yesterday, his hair messier than usual. He looked like he had spent the night at the hospital as well. “Charlie and Ginny call it the _I-wanna-snog-Malfoy_. I guess they were right...”

               Draco frowned at first until he became aware of the meaning behind his words. His eyes widened. His ears turned a shade darker. “You… What?”

“How about we start with you calling me Harry?” He raised his hand and offered it to Draco. Why hadn’t he realized it earlier?

He saw Draco squint his eyes in distrust, eventually taking his hand. It was warm and soft. Harry let his thumb wander over the back of the hand. “Draco.”

“Fancy a coffee? I think my report can wait.” He winked at his counterpart. “Scared, _Draco_?”

               “You wish, _Harry_ ,” Draco answered with a genuine smile.

Suddenly aware of all their shared little moments over the last few months, his heart swelled with all sorts of positive feelings. Deep down he already had known. Why else would he have chosen Draco over everyone else?

 

🙚 ★ 🙘

 

A year later, Draco stepped into the bathroom of his first own apartment. He loved his flat. It only had two rooms and was kind of small, but it was his. He’d lived here for half a year now. He enjoyed living in the middle of the city. The anonymity of it made him feel secure.

With a yawn he reached for his toothbrush. As soon as the brush reached his mouth he closed his eyes, too tired to keep them open. Suddenly warm arms wrapped around his waist, a nose nuzzled against his neck.

               “Good morning, love.”

Draco shivered in pleasure. As he opened his eyes he looked into stunning emerald eyes through the mirror. Harry put his chin on his shoulder, a sleepy smile on his lips, squeezing him a bit tighter.

Draco leaned forward to spit out and reached for the water cup. After he was finished he turned in the sunkissed arms and wrapped his own around the neck of his boyfriend. “Good morning, darling. How did you sleep?”

               “Hmm… I’d say as good as if it was my own home.” Harry kissed Draco gently and Draco felt like he could melt on the spot.

“The last two months I came to the conclusion that you are homeless. You haven’t spend a single night at Grimmauld,” Draco chuckled, running his fingers through the soft black hair.

               “Is that so? Then I’d say I just move in with you. Solves my problem of being unsheltered and you would save half the rent.” Harry let his eyebrows dance seductively, while his hands wandered further down to grope Draco’s arse.

Draco burst out laughing, kissing Harry again. “You should brush your teeth as well. Disgusting.” Still with a smile on his lips and now a wrinkled nose, he tilted his head slightly to the right. “Yes. Move in with me, Harry.” As an answer, Harry’s hands wandered to Draco’s thighs. He followed the unspoken invite and snaked his legs around his waist.

The loving gaze that was directed at him made Draco’s heart flutter. Would he ever get enough of this? Every day he discovered more that he loved about Harry. He pressed his face against Harry’s neck. Koala hugs were his favourites. In the arms of his boyfriend and partner in crime, he felt safe and sound. Loved.

On bad days he questioned everything, doubted Harry’s sincerity about his feelings. Draco got scared that he would burn himself on the bright light that Harry was for him.

But at the end they never let go of the other one, holding onto each other, believing that they were born to be together. Only with Harry around, Draco was truly himself.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Donna, because you are a fucking ray of sunshine and I love you heaps, I wrote this for you.  
> My intention was to write a fluffy hug fic (inspired by Bastille) to cheer you up and motivate you during your stressful uni time...  
> I hope I could light up your day a tiny bit ♥ ( _You are perfectly capable of doing that!_ )


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